Photography, as we all know, is not real at all. It is an illusion of reality with which we create our own private world.
Meet my Jumanji house (seriously, doesn’t it remind you of that Robin Williams movie?). It’s taken over by vines as thick as my arms. At first glance, you might wonder why it’s my favorite (I know, because I’ve been asked many times why I love decayed buildings.). But take a second, longer look. It’s not your typical beauty. It stays hidden. Its potential is amazing. It sits in wait for the day it will be restored and loved.
I love finding the diamonds in the rough. It’s an exciting challenge for me. And when I create something like this that I am so excited about, I’m sharing a piece of myself. And I’m grateful for those who have seen that I have potential and have encouraged me, even in my weirdness. You mean the world to me.
And if a day goes by without my doing something related to photography, it’s as though I’ve neglected something essential to my existence, as though I had forgotten to wake up. I know that the accident of my being a photographer has made my life possible.